Vengeance in Red
by Big Demoband
Summary: Maxim believes he knows what he fights for and who his enemy is. ADVENT were the invaders, XCOM were the ones trying to get them out. But how much does that hold up under some scrutiny and good old-fashioned brainwashing?
1. Chapter 1

**Dedicated to fargusth.**

* * *

Another day in the fantastic life of the resistance. As far as Max saw it, anyhow.

Things had been picking up somewhat around their little sleepy ship. Their Chief Engineer had finally began work on plasma-type weapons, which he was happy about. He didn't know heads from tails on how that tech worked—all he knew was that he was tired of the Mutons on the field having the bigger guns than him. He needed something that could stop a Berserker dead in its tracks without being as outrageously heavy to carry and cumbersome as the cannons they had on offer. Tiffany could go on and on all day about how practical it was to bring her "baby" to the fight; Max knew where the real value was. Preferably one shot was all he needed—maybe a good stab with his axe after that.

Still, bigger guns meant that ADVENT was paying more attention to them. The Commander had began to run patrols whenever the ship was landed. Fair by Max, it helped curb his sense of cabin fever. If he had to hear one more joke out of Zach... well, they'd be down a Specialist, he'd say that much.

So he welcomed the crisp, vaguely autumn air of the area he was patrolling. Getting visibility past the trees was a task to be sure, especially with the occasional falling leaves catching his attention, wearing his alertness thin. Better to look and it be nothing than not look and have it be something, though. Surveying the landscape, he spared a hand off of his mag shottie to scratch at his mildly graying stubble. He kept it trimmed best he could, but clean razors were a bit of a commodity. Same with anyone who could cut hair and not make it look ridiculous, so he'd settled with a braid that one of the girls had set him up with. As long as it kept his hair out of his face, he was fine about it.

More movement caused him to look over. Still more leaves. Were they always distributed on the ground like that, though? He eyeballed it for a second before going back to his patrol, keeping a mental note to watch in the direction of that area. Too little to focus on, but too much to dismiss.

Suddenly, there was some rustling off to his left. He snapped over, raising his shotgun. Nothing immediately revealed itself. Could've been an animal... though, more likely it could've been a Chryssalid. He considered the pros and cons of going to check. Going off on his own was bound to get him killed. Wasn't Langley on the patrol route with him right now? He clicked his radio, speaking into it. "Hey, Bombshell. Got some suspicious noises over here. Mind coming with me to check it out?"

There was a moment of concerning silence, but eventually his response came back. "_Yeah, sure. Where you at?_"

He looked back, using the Avenger as a reference. "Seven o'clock relative to the Avenger. Was just some rustling, but you know how the Commander—"

"_Help!_"

Max raised his gun again instinctively, head trained towards the woods once more. That sounded like a woman—couldn't have been older than twenty. He gently inched towards the woods, Langley's words lost on his ears. "Hello?!"

"M-my leg!" She couldn't have been far off. "There was a bear trap—please, I'm bleeding!"

Max's sense of altruism kicked in, and he radioed in again. "Bombshell, run in the seven o'clock direction, got a wounded civvie in the woods, I'm going after her."

"_Stay safe,"_ he advised, "_I think I heard something about a bear trap? Might be another._"

"Got it." With that, he took off deeper into the woods. The rustling earlier must've been the woman trying to get through the woods. Maybe the smart move would've been to wait up for Langley, but Max had dogs bite his legs before, and he knew how much that hurt. To be caught in a bear trap must've been magnitudes worse. Plus, if she was losing blood, best to get her back as quickly as possible. Tygan could probably fix her up, right? "Where are you?"

"Over here!" Her voice was a little to his right, more ahead.

He kept running, though he was scanning the ground per Langley's instructions. A few twists around trees later, he came upon her. She was ginger-haired, freckled, and wearing some pretty nice clothes for what he'd assume. Most of all, she was sitting down without a bear trap around her leg. He looked her up and down, scanning for injuries, opening his mouth to ask what she thought she was doing.

A bug bit his neck, and he reflexively slapped at it. That just brought slightly more pain, and he took away his hand. His glove was unmarked by insect guts—so what was...?

Max didn't have to ask much longer when the feeling went out of his legs and he hit the ground.

He was still fully conscious, but his body didn't want to respond to him whatsoever. Words died in his throat as his mouth refused to move, and he couldn't even readjust the pose he'd fallen on the ground in. He could only watch the cover of the trees gently shift through half-lidded eyes. Fear rose in his mind. He'd walked right into a trap because he let his better side get the best of him.

There was the sound of something gently hitting the ground, then someone shifting through the leaves. "_Maxim Zinchenko._" Oh. Oh no. That was the voice of the Hunter. A little bit more walking, and the Chosen fully came into his vision. He wickedly towered over Max in this situation, a smile matching his aura on his face. "Tricked by a pretty face, hm? Tut tut, would've taken a guy like you to play a little harder to get. I'm almost disappointed."

"Kon-Il, please." That was the woman. "Don't. I did what you asked. Just take him."

"You're in no position to be requesting that, Greta." The Hunter's eyes shifted in her direction, and he crossed his arms. "Do you think you can get in the way of me playing with my food, hm...?" There was a moment of silence, presumably her shaking her head. "Yeah. Didn't think so." He turned his attention back to Max. "The Elders talk about you a lot, Max. It's no secret that you're something of a celebrity. XCOM's best agent, and all—"

Suddenly, the Hunter whipped his head to the side, and faster than Max could track, he drew his pistol and fired, with the background noise of Greta yelping. Something thudded against the ground dully, and Max had the sinking feeling he knew who it was. Kon-Il chuckled sadistically, holstering his gun. "Tried to get backup on me? A coward _and_ an idiot, and your friend's dead for his troubles."

Max didn't doubt that the Hunter had the ability to shoot someone dead. He made one last push to try to strain his limbs, to scream, to do _anything_—but all that came out of him was a muffled gurgle. The Hunter cracked his knuckles, looking down at Max. "Well, I suppose I've got what the Elders wanted. I'm sure they'll get off of my back for a while, _especially_ after bagging one other poor schmuck."

"Y-you didn't..." Greta sounded on the verge of tears. "You didn't say y-you would..."

"Oh, _quiet._" He jabbed a finger at her. "Would you really want your identity revealed? I'm sure you're just _living_ your little double-life between the resistance and us. Would hate if word got back to XCOM that you're a dirty spy. So I did you a favor. Get yourself back to the recovery point. I'm sure we'll find use of you again."

She sniffled, sounding like she was getting up and walking off. That left Max presumably _very_ alone with the Chosen Hunter. He stared long into the distance in the direction that Greta left, then slowly shifted his gaze back to Max. "... I ought to kill you right now. I know what the Elders want from you—they want _another Chosen._" He dragged his upper lip upwards, revealing his razor-sharp teeth. "And the _last_ thing I need is another sibling giving me grief. But, considering we've already got a Ranger type in my sister... I don't think that's what they're going to do with you, exactly." He crouched down, resting his hands on his legs. "Plus, if I killed you, that'd get me another round with the Elders, and I'd rather not. Easier to throw you to them than it is for me to kill you."

He reached down, pushing Max onto his front roughly. He was then picked up around his midsection, watching the ground beneath him get farther away. The Hunter was slinging him by his side. "Well, Max, say goodbye to the Avenger. I'm sure it's the last you'll see of it for a long time..."

The bottom of Max's stomach dropped out, and with a sensation like he was free falling, he blacked out.

* * *

When he came to, Max couldn't say he liked his situation any more than his previous one.

First of all, he was groggy to all hell. Whatever that Chosen did to knock him out, he was still feeling it however much later it took to wake him up. Second of all, well, his limbs were starting to respond to him. He would've considered that as things looking up, if not for the third thing he took into account—he was completely bound. Max was suspended almost vertically, with his arms and legs locked into braces. His chest was similarly locked down, leaving him with hardly any room to breathe. He angled his head around, trying to get a better view of his surroundings.

As far as he could see, he was in some sort of ADVENT facility. It almost looked like an operating room, with the tables full of tools nearby and a few cabinets full of supplies. Concerningly, there was a drain on the floor near where he was bound, hinting that this wasn't a usual medical facility. One of those sliding doors was in his sight at the end of the room, and it looked like there was a monitor overhead. Maybe it was meant to flip down and show him something.

Well, if they were hoping to get something out of him, he wasn't going to budge. Even if it seemed like they had a mole that lured him away, well, that was Greta's fault. Not the Commander's. He half-thought of biting his own tongue out, but if XCOM pulled off a rescue like they'd done for Mox, he didn't want to shoot his chances of being able to fight in the foot. Nothing to do now but wait, and maybe think on a plan of escape.

Still, what the Hunter said came back to him. He'd heard rumors that the Hunter himself was a Reaper that got kidnapped and turned into the monster he was now... but based off of his behavior, that was something that was a little hard to believe. Kon-Il was too sadistic, too conniving to be anything human. But if he was to be believed, the Elders had their sights on Max as well. That wasn't the least bit concerning. Internal snarking aside... were they going to put him through the same process presumably used on the Hunter? The other Chosen? Was he going to end up turned against XCOM?

Not if he had anything to say about it, at least. They were going to put him through hell, but surviving the last twenty years without XCOM had been hell as well. He was going to make it. He just had to weather the storm before XCOM arrived. He could take a few beatings in the meantime.

Max half-thought they were playing the long game with torture with how long it took for anything to happen. But eventually, the door on the far end of the room slipped open. In walked the most smug man Max had seen outside of Jerry—short, brown hair, brown eyes, and pale skin like he avoided the sun like the plague. Behind him came a Sectoid, and the guy in the lab coat came over, chuckling. "This is the candidate? Can't say I'm surprised. The Elders sure know how to pick the cream of the crop."

Max would've loved to exchange some witty banter, really, but he didn't even want to give this guy the benefit of hearing him if he could help it. He merely stared at him. The scientist sighed, gesturing to Max while looking at the Sectoid. "No fun. No fun whatsoever. I guess I'm glad XCOM isn't completely full of cocky types." The Sectoid replied, but it was in ADVENT by Max's guessing. "You'd certainly think that, given his kill count. Maxim Zinchenko, codename Juggernaut. I feel like we're going to have a lot of fun prying info out of you."

He simply opted to glare at the man in front of him, not daring to give up a word. He rolled his eyes. "Many words, this one." He chuckled darkly. "We'll be getting more out of him here soon enough." He unclipped the datapad from his belt, messing with the screen on it. "As fun as it would be to drill holes in your teeth to get the information out of you, the higher ups want you in as pristine physical condition as could be managed." There was a whirring sound around Max's ears, and on either side of his head, a disc-like headset was put on either side of him, suspended just about an inch or so from his ears. The Sectoid approached, running psionics through its hand. "Mental condition, however...? That's negotiable. So long as I don't have to lay a finger on you, my associate and I here can do just about whatever we want—which we intend to do."

The scientist nodded to the Sectoid, who extended its hand forward, psionics lancing towards Max's head. Now, he'd been mind controlled before—enough times that he'd learned a few mental tricks for keeping them out. But this was ten times worse than it usually was, probably thanks to the device around his ears likely serving as an amplifier. He struggled and squirmed in his bonds, feeling the Sectoid pass his first few defenses, easily overpowering him as it mind was opening up in ways he didn't want it to—he had secrets to keep, like the location the Avenger was going to land next over in—

_No!_ Max tried his best to mentally strain away from the Sectoid's probing questions, to try and be evasive at this point rather than defensive. But with the amplifiers around his head, it was proving more and more futile. The Sectoid pulled at his memories and Max struggled, straining against his spot on the table. _Give in._ A voice that wasn't one he recognized hissed in his mind, but he knew what it belonged to. _It's easier to let go. You won't struggle so much._ Max hated how tempting it was to just give up—and the prospect was only seeming more viable by the second as the Sectoid invaded his mind. He was panting hard, trying to catch his breath. It was too much. Maybe he should just give in.

The location of the next landing site flashed in his mind. So did the faces of his fellow soldiers. The havens that ADVENT hadn't raided yet. Max tried one more time to slam the Sectoid out, but his will had been exhausted. It was easily turning over the stones of his mind, finding out everything it wanted to know.

After an eternity, the Sectoid's psionics withdrew, and Max hung his head, breathing heavily. He'd done it. He'd given away almost everything they could have wanted without hardly so much as a fight. Infuriatingly, he could hear the scientist tutting at him. "Got everything out of him already? Pity. I was hoping to use that psionic probe the Hunter designed. Apparently they're _really_ fun nowadays." The Sectoid said something else. "I know they _said_ that, but I'd like to think they'd account for a little wiggle room on our parts. Brainwashing isn't too exact of an art."

At _that_ bombshell, Max began trying to pull himself out of his bonds anew. In his heart, he knew there was no way he was getting out short of a miracle, but he had to _try._ He couldn't just sit there and wait for the cavalry to arrive. He'd already given away so much intel about XCOM. The least he could do was try to cause a little trouble for it.

No such luck. The man in front of him just laughed. "Someone not liking the idea? Well, tough. Went and got yourself captured by the Hunter, so I think you've got no say in what happens from here on out. Still, you _were_ compliant enough in giving the information. I suppose we can spare you the worst measures." Like hell they were going to. Max knew they were just taunting him at this point. "Besides, the higher ups don't want you in _too_ bad of a state. But, considering we made good progress on the intel extraction, I think we can move the timetable up a bit."

Max looked up in time to watch the scientist playing with his datapad again, and the screen in front of him descended. The Sectoid approached him once again and though his muscles ached, he tried in vain to get out again. It hissed something in ADVENT again, in something of a dismissive tone. "He'll stop struggling soon enough," the man replied. "Now, Max. We've got some things to show you, and I'd like to think you'll agree with the Elders after you've seen them."

The screen lit up, and as it did, the Sectoid channeled its psionics into the amps again. Max could hardly resist anymore as he was made to straighten his head, eyes forced open and trained on the screen. It was an aerial shot of an ADVENT City Center at night. The lights on in the buildings flickered, then went out. The voice of the Speaker came on over the images. "_Maxim. I am sure you think XCOM is in the right. But there is more to their actions than you realize._" As he spoke, he could _feel_ the words being drilled into his head a second time by the Sectoid. He tried to close his eyes, but no dice on that.

The image swapped to some cell phone recording of the inside of a hospital, the lights going out and the sounds of machinery petering out before lower lights came on, presumably a generator. "_When XCOM meddles, when they destroy our systems and damage our transmitters... the harm is more than just us. It's them. It's every person in need at the hospitals._" The scene shifted to a grocery store, with them throwing away presumably expired food. "_It's our food suppliers._" The display continued to shift to various scenes of the city centers suffering without power. "_It's all of the people they claim to be fighting for. XCOM does not consider the wide-reaching implications of their actions._"

Now the display went to a memorial monument, where citizens were putting down roses. Max tried to ward off the implications by thinking it was just for ADVENT troops before the Speaker spoke again. "_XCOM __**kills**_ _civilians with actions such as these. Such destruction of our power supplies tests our failsafes... and under duress, not all of them successfully activate. Lives are lost, and for what? For a war that will only see more of them taken for some futile goal? Do you know what XCOM fights for, Maxim? Do you remember at this point?_"

Of course Max knew... but when he reached for the answer, it was like it wasn't there. He was sure he knew and the Sectoid was hiding it from him, but wouldn't it feel more foreign? It... it just felt like he never bothered to ask why. Did he ever ask what they were fighting for other than just getting the aliens off of the planet?

"_Perhaps you do remember. Perhaps you remember it's for the removal of ADVENT. But what for?_" Scenes of ADVENT descending upon havens played—but instead of the bloodshed Max was used to, the resistance members came to the troops with open arms, some even willingly staying behind. "_We have been trying to reconnect with the havens. I am sure you think you know the story—but every haven we quell has struck out against us first. The fringe communities, those living out in unsustainable conditions... we reach out to them and offer them the choice of a better life, somewhere they will have beds, food, shelter._" A man in a clearly improvised wheelchair comes out from behind a building, and two Troopers help him onto a vehicle. "_We offer them accessibility and aid that XCOM cannot. Tell me, Maxim, has XCOM ever accepted the disabled into their ranks? Have you ever touched down with a haven to build them accessible facilities? Talk with their members and address what they need?_"

If he did... he didn't remember. But surely they _did_ at some point. He was sure. He was sure... regardless, the Speaker trudged on. "_XCOM does not help those that are not useful to them. They do not stop to think about the ramifications of their actions. XCOM fights against those it is trying to save..._"

On and on, the Speaker went. Every time that he brought up something XCOM had failed to do, Max was sure he was lying, but... he couldn't remember anything that would counter it. He remembered joining up with XCOM because he'd been facing hell with the aliens during those twenty years. _But wasn't it your fault? You fought against ADVENT when they came, so they merely responded in kind. Did you ever stop to try to reach out to them?_ No, he didn't, but that was because... because...

He didn't know.

Eventually, the Speaker's video seemed to be coming to a close. "_I hope I have given you a great deal to think about,_" he concluded, the video swapping back to a feed of him sitting with a backdrop of the ADVENT logo behind him. "_ADVENT fights for a better future—not just for humanity, but for all those among the stars. Give my words thought, Maxim. I look forward to being able to speak with you one day, as equals._"

The monitor went dark, and after a moment, it retracted back to the ceiling. The Sectoid stepped away from him, and he could feel its psionics recede. The scientist was still there, and he gave an impressed whistle. "Man. Hard to say how much of that vacant expression is the Speaker's recording and how much is thanks to you." He stepped closer, appraising Max. "So, Max? What do you say?"

Max blankly stared at the scientist. His wits slightly came back. That Sectoid was likely messing with his memory. It was hard to remember why he'd joined up with XCOM or hadn't approached ADVENT to live in the city centers, but he was sure he had his reasons. He'd cling to that, knowing the Sectoid was trying to make him give in. "Fuck you."

The scientist was dryly unimpressed. "Well, maybe a few more rounds. After all, need you complacent before we move onto the truly fun part." He stepped away from Max, tapping the datapad in his hands. "We'll have you consider things in solitary confinement for a little, let you stretch your legs." Max heard some buzzing at the side of his head, and when he looked over, a syringe was being moved towards him. "For now, go ahead and say goodnight."

Max _wanted_ to struggle away from it, but he knew damn well that was a ticket to internal bleeding and probably a few more puncture wounds than he needed. He just defiantly glared at the scientist as it entered his skin, the serum hitting him almost immediately as his eyes drooped and he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

When he next woke up, it was as the scientist described—solitary confinement.

He came to, slumped against a wall and still harboring some grogginess. He rubbed at his eyes, muttering for a second before trying to see where he was out. A fairly nondescript cell—dark gray, with a bed, toilet, and sink being about the only available things on offer. As much as he hated following the advice of assholes, he shakily stood up, stretching out.

So. Captured, interrogated, and they were trying to brainwash him into going against XCOM. Fairly typical life in the resistance, right? He sighed, rubbing at his face. Well, he failed the "resist interrogation" part with flying colors. He was starting to see why the Commander didn't let him in on too many details about how the whole operation was run despite being their best soldier—caution that paid off in the end. Even if he'd given basically everything else he knew. Maybe he should've tried to feed the Sectoid false information... but hindsight was 20/20, he supposed.

Probably the more concerning part was the bit about the brainwashing. They were trying to make him into some new agent of the Elders, and... he was somewhat frightened at how easy it had been to forget why he'd joined XCOM, or what he did for twenty years. It was coming back to him a bit now—he'd joined XCOM because they extended their hand to him after the haven he was protecting got raided, and he was pretty sure it wasn't because the haven fired first at ADVENT. They were trying to take that reason away from him. Max clenched his fists. Even if he forgot _why,_ he'd hold onto the fact that he joined XCOM for a reason. He just needed to manage that much.

Max leaned against the wall after he was done stretching. There wasn't much to do now but wait—and this looked like one of the holding cells he watched Mox get busted out of. Nothing to be used here—hell, the bed didn't even have any blankets for if he wanted to off himself. Or ambush a guard, either way. He let his head rest against the wall, staring at the ceiling. His downtime would be best used reinforcing to himself that XCOM was in the right. ADVENT were the ones who came in and took over the Earth. _Because you humans were about to make yourselves extinct,_ a nagging thought went, and he stonewalled it. He needed to stand by XCOM no matter what they fed him, what lies they tried to spin.

It was hard to tell the passage of time in the cell. Max eventually went to rest his legs, continuing to reinforce the idea that XCOM were the heroes, as cheesy as it was. By the time he'd trailed off into just mentally repeating "XCOM will come for you," he figured he could get what sleep he could on practically a slab of metal, and tried to catch some sleep. If he did, it felt like it wasn't for long before the door opened, which was enough to rouse him. In ducked the Hunter, grinning. "Aw, did I wake the supersoldier up from his nap?"

Max wanted to groan. Half of him also wanted to lunge for the Hunter, but there was no situation where that ended well. Maybe if he was trying to provoke him enough to kill him, but Kon-Il supposedly already had his reasons to keep him alive. Max sat up rubbing at his eyes as his back complained. "—the hell are you doing here."

"Wow, someone's grumpy." Kon-Il shoved his hands in his pockets, idly strolling in the cell. "And here I am, dropping in to _thank_ you. The Elders think I've done a good job for once, which is about as rare as a Trooper who can think for himself." He then shrugged. "Not like it'll matter for long, but eh. You've bought me some time where they're _not_ breathing down the back of my neck. I supposed I'd do you the courtesy of saying thank you."

"You're welcome," Max muttered flatly, "now do you mind getting me out of here?"

"As hilarious as that would be, no dice." Kon-Il continued to pace. "After all, that would set them right back on me, about ten times worse than they were before. And I like _not_ having the daylights beaten out of me, if you can imagine it."

Max scoffed. The Hunter was known for talking out of his ass at any given time, and right now was no different. "Figured someone like you would get off on it, if it happens at all."

The temperature in the room suddenly seemed to drop. Kon-Il looked towards him, an icy edge to his expression. "You know," he began, voice low, "I tell the truth more often than people think. But I suppose XCOM wouldn't have any reason to believe me, hm? Especially not when it 'doesn't concern them.'" He shrugged with his hands out, faux affably. "Oh, but hey, water off of my back. Wanna know something funny? Guess who _doesn't_ tell the truth so much?" He tilted his head up, looking down his nose at Max. "Your precious little Commander."

This was a hell of a time that Max was in for, he knew it. He matched the Hunter's stare, as genuinely terrifying as it was. "You're brave, I'll give you that. But what about your Commander? Sitting there, giving orders in the Avenger, almost no safety risk to 'em? Y'wanna know why ADVENT's on Earth? Because the Commander couldn't do the _one job_ assigned to him. Run XCOM, twenty years ago." He gestured with a hand. "The 'battle with Earth's militaries' nonsense that ADVENT spews? Wrong. XCOM existed back then too, run by him. And he wasn't even competent enough to put up much of a fight."

That was news to Max. Around the time of the invasion, he didn't even know XCOM existed. The aliens came, invaded his home, and then he had to fight for himself for twenty years. He was on XCOM's side, he reaffirmed. But... if they were doing something, wouldn't he have heard more of them?

His expression must have changed, as Kon-Il grinned wickedly. "Ah, the realization's setting in, hm? Well, here's the haymaker." He pointed at Max. "I read up on you. All that surviving you did before XCOM? Every time a haven was raided, you were on the run, more of your friends died to ADVENT? That was the Commander. Up there, pulling the strings, making sure every shot to execute a civilian was on the mark. He was the one all plugged up into ADVENT's system and doing things before I was even _around._"

The Hunter had to be lying. He knew there was a twenty year stint where XCOM didn't even seem to exist, but he figured that was because the Commander had been in hiding, gathering up resources. Max hadn't joined at the inception of XCOM, he supposed. _The __**second**_ _inception._ But... was the Commander really responsible? Max stared the Hunter down. "You're lying. Where's the proof?"

Kon-Il grinned like that was the best question he'd been asked all day. "Good thing I brought this, then," he said, taking a datapad off of his hip. It activated and began swapping through menus without him touching it, eventually swapping over to a video feed as he presented it to Max. "Take a look, boy scout. And you'll see I've been telling the truth this whole time."

Begrudgingly, Max took the pad. The scene displayed was of a lab-like arrangement, made of the dark metal typically found in ADVENT facilities. It was a camera's view of a room in particular, covered in monitors. An upright containment tube was at the far part of the room, with a variant of the ADVENT logo on it.

As he watched, a gurney was rolled in from one side of the screen. A few scientists were rolling it in, overseen by some _very_ strange looking Sectoids and men that were too tall to be human. On the gurney, in a suit like the one he'd personally gotten out of the Forge...

Was the Commander.

The faceplate on the suit was off, but next to him, allowing Max to see who it was. They rolled the gurney close to the tube, putting the faceplate on as one of the too-tall men threw a lever on the side of the machine. The covering of the tube parted, revealing glass and a strange fluid that was steadily draining. Once it was fully drained, the Commander was lifted as the glass slid down, eased against the back of the tube. As the scientists seemingly hooked up a few connections at the back, one of the tall men radioed something in on his watch. Eventually, the Commander was all hooked up, as the switch was thrown again and the glass came back up, filling the container with fluid and closing the cover once more.

The Hunter took the datapad back. "Ask Jane or Bradford—or your beloved Commander himself—they'll tell you that was the room they sprung him out of. Right there, he was serving as a battery for the whole Network, carrying out orders and making sure the war crimes were happening at peak efficiency. He got so good at it, too!" He shrugged once more, clipping the datapad back onto his belt. "You guys probably wouldn't have stood a chance had you not ran a diversion tactic near Unification Day proceedings to get him out. But, there you have it. I've been telling the truth, as much as I'm sure you don't want to believe it, hm?"

It was all too much to process. All the people he'd grown to protect at Humanity Falls... their faces flashed in his mind. The screams echoed in his ears, made all the louder by knowing that, fundamentally, the _Commander_ was behind that attack. All this time, he'd been working for the person who sent him on the run for twenty years...?

The Hunter's dark chuckling drew him out of his thoughts. "Not so patriotic now, hm? Didn't think so." He began pacing towards the door. "Still, I'll let it all sink in some more. Hope you have a lovely time here, Maxim."

With that, the Hunter tapped the pad, exiting the cell, the door closing faster than Max could react in his shell-shocked state. There... was hardly anything he could bring to mind. The Commander had been the one to kill the people he had loved back then. He was the one who had been forcing him to keep switching locations, keep him without anywhere to sleep as ADVENT chased after him and spread their occupation. He was fighting _for_ the very person who did that to him?

Stunned, Max fell back onto the bed, sitting down. He didn't know what to think anymore. He had been resolved to stick by XCOM no matter what they did to him. But now that he knew the Commander was the driving force behind his suffering no more than a year ago? All the drive had been sucked out of him with Kon-Il's words, and Max had the sinking feeling that it was exactly what the Hunter had aimed for.

Something beyond the numbness came in. It made him clench his fists, made him want to scream. The Commander did this to him. He was the one who got him into this whole situation to begin with, powering the Network as he did. If the Commander hadn't been on the Network, if he hadn't screwed up at First Contact, if he hadn't _existed..._

Some part of Max was fighting back against his thoughts. _Surely the Commander had no say in matters in his state,_ it pleaded, but Max was already finding reasons against that. You had to be reasonably in your senses to command an army that large with any amount of accuracy. The Commander had to be _somewhat_ lucid during his time. He probably knew about everything he was doing and didn't lift a finger to stop it, didn't even try to exercise mercy. He just killed without question, without morals, without hesitation.

_XCOM does not consider the wide-reaching implications of their actions._

No. No, they didn't. No, the Commander didn't. Max finally had a tangible face to put to all of his rage. The Commander had made no effort to even brief Max on what had happened before. He'd made no effort to explain himself or even give a disclaimer of what he had done in the past. Max bet he was hoping that it all could fly quietly. Not on his watch.

For the next stretch of time, Max simply stewed on his anger, his resentment against XCOM steadily building. Far from his mind was the resolution he had made before the Hunter had walked in, before the Hunter had shown him just what was going on. He still resented the Hunter, but at least he had opened his eyes. Was the Commander even planning to get him back? Maybe, but likely only because Max was their best man. They couldn't let an _asset_ like him go. But how long would they have had him wait for? How many lashings were they going to make him endure? What were they even _doing_ right now, with him captured and Langley dead?

The door opening broke him out of his thoughts, and in stepped the scientist, backed by a Muton guard. "Ah, hello, Max. I heard the Hunter had a bit of a visit? He told me you seemed to have a bit of a revelation."

Max still held his hatred for this guy, but it wasn't as much as it had been before. He stared straight ahead after he was addressed. "—what are you going to do to me. After the whole induction process."

"I thought you would never ask." The scientist stepped further in and his Muton shadowed him. "After we've fully convinced you that ADVENT is who you should be fighting for, there are some _additions_ to you to make. The higher ups have already expressed that they're done with the Chosen Project, which I certainly had a bit of fun with, but I understand why they're retiring it. No, we're moving onto something new." He grinned. "_Cybernetics._ I'm sure the higher ups want to see what the data is like—"

"Do it."

The scientist blinked, the smug look finally wiped off of his face. "... excuse me?"

"You heard me." Max raised his vision to him, staring him dead in the eye. Something in that glare must've changed from before, as he could see him falter just a bit. "Do whatever it is you're going to do to me. I have a score to settle and I figure it's what you guys wanted after all."

The scientist blinked a few more times before grinning triumphantly. "That Hunter certainly does an effective job! He told me you had a revelation, but this moves up our timetable!" He offered his hand. "Richard Tristley. I'll be happy to get you suited up, Maxim."

Max looked at the offered hand. He stood up to his full height, accepting the handshake. Whatever was intended for him, he was going to see it out to the end. The Commander was going to pay for his actions and for never having explained them, and Max was going to see to it that he personally would be bringing down the axe.

* * *

The next few months were a blur of activity.

He was constantly shifted through facilities as the various surgeries happened, presumably to keep him hidden and shake off XCOM's trail. He'd do exercises and make benchmarks for the strength he was accumulating, the implants he was hosting. It had taken him a while to truly get used to them all, but eventually controlling them and working with them came as easy as breathing.

Dr. Tristley had done a truly fine job. All of the implants served to heighten his physical attributes, and the chip in his spine linked him up to the Network, benefitting from commands and info streamed to him over it. The good doctor had definitely kept his physical appearance intact as he did, either implanting everything or creating a skin mesh over parts he simply replaced. The one thing he couldn't properly mask was the eyes... but the Juggernaut thought it was perfectly acceptable. Red on black was intimidating, and it would be the first sign to XCOM to show that he wasn't playing their games anymore.

Eventually, the day came. The Juggernaut was doing one more round of training to make sure all of his cybernetics were working correctly. Understandably, all the implants and growth treatments had buffed him up a bit—the Warlock had once come to gawk at him and the Juggernaut would say he was fairly on that Chosen's level now. Not that he hadn't been strong before, but this was a whole new level. He was busy trying to make new gouges in the reinforced punching bag that had been provided to him when he heard a voice call out behind him. "My dear Juggernaut! I have some news for you."

He landed one last blow on the bag, making the chains holding it up shudder. He turned around, facing Dr. Tristley. "Doctor."

The doctor was holding a datapad, grinning. "We've gotten news of XCOM moving on your old facility!"

He quirked an eyebrow. Took them long enough, and they even had the wrong address. "Usually that's not good news. What's with the giddiness?"

"It's the prefect setup." Dr. Tristley approached, gesturing with a free hand as he did. "XCOM doesn't know whatsoever of your new status and loyalties. They think this is a simple stealth extraction like the others. If we were to, say, plant you back at the location..."

It pretty much instantly clicked for the Juggernaut once he'd gotten to the XCOM part of that sentence, and he nodded. "I could take out the whole squad before they could so much as blink."

"Ideally you'd let them take you back, was my thinking."

The Juggernaut tapped the side of his head, implying a gesture to his eyes. "These are a dead giveaway, doctor, and besides—we'd have better chances grounding the Avenger and launching an assault from there. I kill the stealth operatives they send—who are likely to be the best they've got—and they're down one aspect of their operations. No more sneaking around as much as they're used to."

Dr. Tristley nodded. "Excellent, excellent, though I would not have expected anything less from you. Yes, the Hunter has been working on his siege cannon project for quite some time now, and I'm sure he'd be interested in having you along once he finally finishes it."

"Even if he didn't want me," he replied, "I'd go anyway. Scores to settle, and all that." He'd been thinking a little bit on the rest of XCOM, as well. The Commander had some repenting to do, but as for the soldiers he once fought with? He didn't _want_ to kill them, but understandably they'd get in his way of the Commander. He'd probably give them a warning down there, but he knew for a damn fact that the Commander would have them fight him anyway. He could probably just pull some career-ending injuries, or at least ones that would take them out of the running for a little bit.

"Your actions, not my guidance. I'd hardly want to test the Hunter on a good day." Dr. Tristley's words brought him out of his thoughts. "Even so, I would prefer all hands on deck for such an event, but you know how much the Chosen despise cooperating."

"Very much so." He hadn't seen much of them while he was training with ADVENT, but he'd heard the stories back at XCOM. That was the most dysfunctional family he'd ever heard of. "Still, back to the point—how soon are we moving out?"

"Right now, if you're ready."

The Juggernaut rolled his head, popping what organic bones he had left. "Alright. No guns? A quick reversal and I'd be armed down there regardless."

"If we want their guard to be totally down, I would advise such."

That he could do. "Lead the way."

Dr. Tristley gave one of his trademark grins, turning around and walking out of the room. The Juggernaut followed after him, though he couldn't help but catch his reflection in some reinforced glass. They'd taken great pains to keep him looking identical to what he'd looked like before—save for his muscle density. But the Juggernaut had counted himself build _before_ he joined ADVENT. About the only thing they'd majorly changed was cutting his hair back, but he'd allowed it to grow out enough to tie it into a braid like he had before. Perhaps the mildly shorter hair would draw their attention away long enough...?

Eh, it wasn't worth thinking over. They wouldn't have much reason to suspect foul play—there was hardly precedent for it. The Juggernaut continued to trail after the doctor, following him out of the room.

The trip from there was fairly straightforward. He boarded one of the dropships along with a little extra security detail for the site, letting them in on his plans on the way in. Best the people he was working with were in the loop—and the ingrained knowledge of the ADVENT language helped. This would be his first combat engagement since, well, the Hunter kidnapped him. Things were bound to get interesting.

Eventually, he was corralled into his "holding cell," his old one to be exact. They'd changed him into the standard prisoner's outfit to help with the deception, and it would likely buy him a few more seconds. He had more than enough armor going on beneath his skin to compensate for the fact that he was essentially wearing nothing to protect himself. He stared at the far wall, putting together his plan of attack. First things first, what position should he adopt? Standing like he was, with his back turned to them, would be pretty suspicious. Sitting less so, but he'd have to keep his back to them even as the door opened for it to work. Wasn't Mox unconscious when they came for him? Yes... he could lie facedown on the floor, eyes closed and unresponsive. They'd roll him over and move to pick him up, and then he could strike.

The Juggernaut moved into position, closing his eyes. Now he played the waiting game. It would be too suspicious to have all of the guard concentrated around his room, so he'd asked them to go on their normal patrols. He'd send a distress signal the moment he confirmed his engagement, and they would know where to collapse.

The Juggernaut kept track of the time on the Network, and to XCOM's credit, they arrived a _little_ earlier than he would've expected. He heard the door behind him open, and it took a bit of willpower to not react. Same went for the voice he heard. "Max?" That was Johnson. He'd trained that man a fair bit, himself, though he chose to go the more subtle route to the Juggernaut's former style. Damn shame what was about to happen.

When the Juggernaut didn't respond, he heard another voice. "ADVENT's likely got him knocked out." Elena! XCOM really _did_ send their best operatives after him. _Real_ damn shame. "Pick him up. I'll cover our six."

"Got it." Footsteps came closer to him, and it took _more_ restraint to not flinch as a hand sought under his side and flipped him over, with some effort. "Damn. Four months and I think he's _gained_ muscles."

"That's Juggernaut for you." The Juggernaut would recognize Sadie anywhere. It really figured that XCOM would want a medic on the mission. "Bet you he was doing whatever exercises he could in here."

"Enough chatter." Elena sounded impatient. "The patrol's due to sweep by here. Pick him up, Haunt."

There was a rustling of equipment, likely Johnson holstering his shotgun. This time, when he was touched, he let all hell break loose.

The Juggernaut's eyes snapped open, greeting him with the sight of Johnson, his shaved head and blue eyes not as familiar a sight as it used to be. Sophie was in the door, a helmet covering her face, and Elena was likely still outside. No matter. In a split second, the Juggernaut lunged at Johnson, dragging him down and planting him on the floor, wrenching the shotgun from his back. Huh, looked like the plasma gun Lily had been making. That would speed things along. He stomped a foot into Johnson's back, pinning him and taking aim, burying a shot into Sophie's leg. She screamed, careening to the floor, and as he pumped the gun, he sent out the distress signal. The gun primed, his next shot was at her GREMLIN, with it practically exploding under the hail of plasma.

A shot felt like it grazed his cheek, and he snapped to the source. Elena had fired upon him, backing up. "Max, what are you—?!"

She didn't speak long. A hail of mag fire cut her down and she slumped to the floor, motionless. He hadn't intended for her to die, but some things couldn't be helped. The MEC that shot moved forward, aiming at Sophie. As it finished the job, he looked down at Johnson, still squirming underneath his shoe. Two down, one to go, perhaps? Perhaps not. Perhaps Johnson here could see as he had what XCOM's failings were. He didn't have to die as well.

Sending a quick command on the Network to disregard Johnson, he brought the stock of his shotgun down on his temple, and he was motionless, but breathing. The Juggernaut took his foot off of him, priming the shotgun once more as he surveyed the carnage. Elena and Sophie were motionless in pools of their own blood, and he could see the ADVENT Officer radioing in the successful ambush. It looked over to him, then to Johnson. "_Juggernaut,_" it began, speaking in ADVENT, "_is he dead?_"

"_No, but I figure he could see as I had whose side he should be fighting for._" He looked over the gun in his hands. It looked almost brand new, but Johnson had already modified it as he saw fit. The man still took good care of his guns after all this time. "_Take him to another facility. Perhaps Dr. Tristley would be interested in another for the project I underwent?_"

The Officer nodded, telling the Troopers on the scene to pick Johnson up. As they did, the Juggernaut finally took a moment to feel his check. Huh. What he'd taken for a graze from the pain was a direct shot, and it seemed like the skin masking at the area had been blasted off—but the metal underneath wasn't too damaged. The doctor had done a good job, indeed. Still, he'd need to have some cosmetic repairs done. He stepped out of the cell, walking out.

"Your tenacity is to be admired, Juggernaut."

That voice... he turned around, and sure enough, the Assassin was standing in the hall. He idly wondered how long the Voidqueen had been here before he responded. "I appreciate the compliment. I don't suppose you were just here to watch how things went down?"

"I am not my brothers," she replied. "Were the mission to turn out rough, I would have stepped in to provide my assistance. Still, judging by the success of it, your planning seems to have paid off."

"Thanks again." The Assassin seemed like the far more personable one of the three Chosen. Perhaps he could cooperate more with her in the future. "Seems right to have someone overseeing things that will actually wade in themselves if things start going sideways."

"I may lurk in the shadows, but I am far from cowardly, Juggernaut." She walked towards him. "You have clearly proven your worth. See to it that you continue to do so—I would hate to see you disappoint as my brothers have."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"As it should be." Ref-Mai turned to leave, regarding him as she did. "I shall be watching you. Your potential is something to be admired." With that, she bled out of sight, leaving no indication she was ever there.

Left with a successful mission on his hands, the Juggernaut went right back to leaving. Even if Johnson didn't want to cooperate, he'd provide them useful intel as to the whereabouts of the Avenger. Soon, the Commander would see that what he had done would come back to bite him. Yes, he had been told the Elders wanted the Commander _back,_ but someone as incompetent as he was didn't have a right to live. There were others who could fulfill his duty—hell, Kon-Il fit the bill well, as much as the Juggernaut didn't want to give him credit. The Commander had to die...

... and the Juggernaut was going to be the one to kill him.


	2. Chapter 2

What could the Commander even say about this most recent development that _wouldn't_ completely demoralize his troops?

That last operation had one of the worst outcomes that Fredrik had ever had the joy of witnessing. All three operatives they'd sent out for Max were gone in some form or another, with yet _another_ of their rank being captured. Starting with Max getting captured, he'd lost five of his best operatives in the whole drama. Worst of all was what seemed to have happened to Maxim. He'd turned on his allies, aided in the capture of one of them, and took a mag shot right to the cheek without flinching. ADVENT had done something to him, something he could hardly fathom about.

Fredrik was massaging his forehead, sitting at his desk in his Quarters. He knew unrest was growing in his troops, and he couldn't quite say he blamed them. Just losing Max would've been bad enough. But for them to see him actively turned against who they had? It wasn't a pretty scene no matter how he sliced it. What could he say to defuse the situation? This wasn't something he could just move on from without talking about it.

His door opened, and he angled his head just enough to see who it was. It was Bradford, naturally, walking inside like Fredrik had invited him in. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Thought you knew how to knock, John."

"You wouldn't have let me in if I did." Bradford got over to his position, crossing his arms. "I've done what damage control I can, but it's clear the soldiers are looking for some words from you on the situation. You stalking off to your Quarters like you did wasn't—"

"—a good idea, I _know._" Fredrik threw his hand out. "But I could hardly think of anything else to do after _that_ complete wash of a mission. We lost a good chunk of our soldiers out of this—and god _knows_ how pissed Volk is gonna get over Elena's death. Might even pull support, and the last thing I need is the Reapers pulling out after we've been weakened."

"But if you don't tell him..."

"Yeah. I know." There was no way the Commander could go about this and not have it all blow up in his face. Volk had to be told what happened to Elena. The soldiers had to have a word on the situation. Sooner or later, they had to move on.

"Fred." Bradford leaned down, easing a hand onto his shoulder. "If you need backup... if you need someone to help you pull together the words, I'm here. Always have been. Things are rocky right now, but we can recover."

Fredrik let the contact from Bradford ease some of his tension, and his hand dropped from his face. Things were rough, indeed. But they could work through it—he just needed to get around to doing that. "I'd appreciate that, John. I don't think I have all of the words to calm the soldiers down."

"Then I'll help. That speech class I took in high school has to be worth something, right?"

Fredrik laughed, shaking his head. Yeah. Maybe things would be alright.

* * *

Once things had calmed down, the Juggernaut found life in ADVENT to be somewhat pedestrian.

After he'd proven his worth in the original ambush mission, the Elders had given him clearance to operate mostly on his own. With the Network for guidance, of course, but it was hard to begrudge a helpful tool like that. It allowed him to keep in contact with the troops at the various bases he visited, as well as hail for transport when he needed with. Which, with the investigation into XCOM he was doing, he certainly needed. XCOM were many things, but subtle wasn't one of them.

Part of the surveillance the Juggernaut had been doing was keeping tabs on active Avatar Project facilities. XCOM may be trying to lay low for the moment, but it was only a matter of time before they had to get back on schedule, lest the Elders achieve their goal. He was looking at one in regions he knew XCOM had made contact with—what he remembered from his time there was doing him wonders in that aspect. But, seeing as that Commander would be loath to do anything anytime soon, that left the Juggernaut to pursue other duties.

Which was why he was on a dropship, heading out to the middle of nowhere. That would be what it seemed like to anyone else, at least, but he had a purpose. He didn't mean to intimidate, but he was rolling with his full armor out of necessity. Said armor was sleek and black, with subtle accents of red for the ADVENT signalling. Lightweight and flexible, he'd even conned Kon-Il into sticking a grappling hook on it. He'd learned what made the Hunter tick as well, as with one short challenge of his engineering abilities, the grappling hook was also capable of snagging other people and pulling them closer. A visor covered his eyes, one linked to the Network, so he could get visual readings on that whenever he needed it. He'd kept Johnson's plasma shottie as a trophy and a weapon after Johnson was captured—he was still sticking out on the "joining" part, but the Juggernaut knew he would see the truth soon enough. The blade the Hunter had fashioned for him was guaranteed to pierce armor and even get some bleeding going. Kon-Il was many things, but a bad engineer he was not.

Still, it all made for a rather intimidating getup, one he hoped wouldn't seem like a challenge. This was the Assassin he was about to meet, after all—he wasn't looking to make an enemy of her. Quite the opposite; as opposed to her brothers, she seemed to have her head on straight. Perhaps a little zealous at times, but nowhere near the Warlock's level. Besides, he could appreciate a fellow sword-and-shotgun type.

The ship lurched to a slow stop, and the sides opened up. He'd arrived at his destination. He dropped out, landing on the ground with a heavy thud. Once he sent a confirmation to the AI pilot that he was off, the dropship sped off into the distance.

It was a cold tundra he'd landed in. To the north, ice for miles. To the south, dry, cracked ground, much like how it was underneath him. Visually, nothing was going on here, and he didn't have much reason to be standing outside like a loon. But underneath the surface? The Juggernaut fired off a message on the Network. _Ref-Mai. I've arrived._

Silence dominated his surroundings for a moment, helped only by the gentle blowing of wind. Just a moment later, a moderately-sized, square patch of ground shuddered and then ascended upwards. Like in some spy flick, it revealed a subterranean elevator, and the doors opened automatically. How inviting. The Juggernaut walked over, entering the elevator and turning around just in time to see the doors close. There was a small jolt, and he could feel himself descending. These secret entrances to the Strongholds seemed to be well hidden. He wouldn't be surprised if XCOM never really found out how to get inside the normal way.

After a while of descent, the elevator slowed to a stop. The doors opened, and the Juggernaut was greeted by the inside of the Assassin's Stronghold. He appraised the entrance as he walked out. It seemed to be an armory of sorts, no doubt for the troops that Ref-Mai kept in her base. The ADVENT weaponry was distinct, and there was quite a range of it, with even those cannons for the MECs being stored. Still, couldn't boggle at it forever. He had places to be. The Juggernaut kept walking, keeping an eye out for the Assassin.

Of course, he knew he couldn't find her if she didn't want to be found. It was good, then, that she wanted to be. She uncloaked a few feet away, looking at him neutrally. "Juggernaut. You are rather well-equipped for this excursion."

Yeah, it seemed like the armor was a little much. It wasn't like he had too many other changes of clothes. "Dressed in only my finest, I assure you," he replied dryly. "Still, I'm not intending it as some show of force. Just breaking it in. How you holding up, Assassin?"

"As fine as one could hope." She let her crossed arms drop. "I've noticed you have been quite actively moving within ADVENT's territory."

"Hoping to get the drop on XCOM once they recover..." He began to pace further inside the Stronghold. "But I'm starting to think that's not the best way to go about it. Allowing them to come to us gives them time to recover from what I've done to them. Now, if we go to _them..._"

"I appreciate your eagerness to strike them down," she replied, walking slightly ahead of him, "but as far as I have seen, you have gained no leads on their location."

"Don't need them." The Juggernaut gestured with an open palm. "They depend on the people more than they think. I'm looking into starting a few Haven raids. Seeking who would like to come into ADVENT's fold, and all else fails... taking down anyone else. XCOM either arrives and I crush them, or they don't and the resistance sees how useless they are."

"Sound strategy. But may I ask why you have arrived at my Stronghold to tell me this?"

"I don't mean to badmouth your brothers in any way," he said, only half-meaning that sentence, "but you seem like the best of the Chosen to work with. Kon-Il and I don't quite see eye-to-eye—literally—and Dhai-Hur hardly gives me the time of day. Not that he needs to, but you get the picture. I know you Chosen can't work together, regarding that competition to take back the Commander, but what about you and me? I'm sure I can offer you a leg up on the competition to find him."

The Assassin blinked at him, hopefully considering the offer. As far as he saw it, it was a winning situation for both sides. The Assassin got an advantage over her brothers in trying to seek the Commander out, and the Juggernaut got a powerful Chosen as an ally. Some part of his brain reminded him that he was to _kill_ the Commander when he found him, and something like that might sully the alliance slightly. She didn't need to know that, of course.

"In this war," she ended up responding, "I will take every advantage offered to me. You are correct—I am not my brothers. I will not look down my nose at such an offer of mutual assistance, especially considering our goals align. I would do well to work with you, Juggernaut."

He nodded, satisfied that she took the offer. "Good. Glad we could agree on that. Are there any terms you want to outline, or?"

"I would not normally engage in such honorless 'stealing,'" she said, not looking too pleased with what she had to say, "but it may fall to me having to assume all credit for finding the Commander. I will discuss with the Elders about what would happen if you found the Commander before I did while still working this alliance. Hopefully I will still be able to name you as an assistant—for if you pull off the feat of finding him before me, you deserve that much."

Eh. The Juggernaut didn't care so much who it was credited to. Still, it _did_ remind him that the Commander had to be _alive_ for that whole "ruling the Earth" thing to work out for Ref-Mai. _He needs to be killed._ Perhaps he could compromise? It's not like they needed much else other than his brain to operate the Network. So long as he didn't give him extended head trauma... _It won't be enough. The Commander needs to fully pay for his crimes._ The Juggernaut was a man of revenge, yes, but even he wouldn't defy too much logic, right? _You __**must**_ _kill him when you can._

He shook his head, both in response and easing his thoughts. "Yeah, I don't care so much about who it all gets credited to. You can claim it was all you if you want—I figure you won't be insufferable about it unlike some other people I could name."

Was that a hint of a smile out of the Assassin? Surely not. Regardless, she was back to a neutral expression quite quickly. "I will make note of that, Juggernaut. I appreciate your lack of care in that particular matter. Regardless, that was the one thing I wished to clear. We can make plans from here about how we go about finding XCOM."

"Like I said," he remarked as they rounded a corner, "we've got to strike quickly. Picking a haven in an area I know they've contacted is how we start. With your abilities, you could scout it out and determine if there's anyone we want to take before we approach and offer them to come to ADVENT. Of course, if they struggle..."

"Then there is no mercy to be had from our gods." Ref-Mai nodded. "XCOM will be too weakened to properly defend such—and as you said, if they _do_ come to their aid, they will be susceptible to more losses."

"Any surviving members of the assault can be spared if they give some details of XCOM's location..."

"And all else fails," Ref-Mai finished, "they often have communications systems that can track their ship."

Great minds thought alike. The Juggernaut was liking this deal more and more. "Pretty much. I even know a haven in a region that has a comms tower we built for them. It'd be pretty easy to get to that thing and use it to trace the Avenger. XCOM's a little too trusting with who they hand out their gear to."

"It shall be their downfall." Ref-Mai had ended up taking the lead in their little walk, and he could see where she was meaning to lead him to after they entered the next room. It looked to be a communications and planning room, based on the number of stations and monitors as well as the holographic map in the middle of the room. Reminded him of the Hologlobe in a few ways, though this one seemed to be set to flat by default. "If you feel strongly about these plans, we may advance immediately." She got over to the table, motioning for him to join her on the other side. Once he did, she continued. "Mark where it is. Even if it is not in my territory, we will pursue it. We may shift the credit of the attack onto you for our purposes."

In any other context, he'd take that as throwing him under the bus. But here, he knew it was crucial to their plans working. Besides... "I remember where it is, and it's about in the middle of what I remember your territory was." He scanned the map, mentally reminding himself of where it was, tapping the display. "Here. I can't give an exact fix, but it's definitely in this area."

"Far more accurate than what I usually work with." The Assassin seemed pleased at the pinpointing. "I can begin moving immediately. I believe you will have some spare time as I do, unless I get quite lucky. I will start where you marked and expand my search region outwards. Perhaps there is something you can manage as I do?"

Docket was kind of empty, regarding things he could do while she was busy searching. He could train, as little as that would help him. He could approach another haven as he did. That would further spread XCOM thin, though the same might be true of ADVENT's forces. He'd have to do a survey and see who all they had available in the region. Outside of that... well, the Speaker had been interested in running a small campaign for him when he had the chance. After all, getting an agent of XCOM so willing to openly decry them was a _very_ good look. Maybe he could start there.

"Perhaps I could take a moment to shore up on PR." He met her gaze as he talked. "After all, havens used to know me as XCOM's best operative. Now that I'm actively working with ADVENT, it's best I put that reputation to use. Put my face out there, perhaps even attend a few events if I have time? I've seen pictures of you at a few."

She averted her gaze, scoffing. "I go where the Elders tell me. I wear what They would have me wear. I do not necessarily take pleasure in such events, though I can see their use for furthering the fondness of the Elders."

"Wasn't implying anything other than me following your example. Sorry if it seemed otherwise."

Ref-Mai shook her head. "It did not. I merely... need to make some qualifying statements. Regardless, what you describe is a good tactic. For any haven that witnesses you professing your alliance to ADVENT, it will be thoroughly demoralizing."

"Once they get around to believing it's not a trick, of course, but I'm sure news of me disappearing has traveled fast." Speaking of him disappearing, he idly wondered how that woman was holding up. Greta, was it? Eh, it didn't occupy his thoughts long. "So yeah, I think I'll go ahead and talk to the Speaker about facilitating that. Can you keep me in the loop regarding your progress?"

Ref-Mai nodded, gazing at the display as she did, as if memorizing the location she was going to scout. "You may place your trust in me—I will see to it that this haven is found and eliminated."

"Offer them salvation first," he reminded. "Only after we'll take out those who didn't want to come."

"Of course. I do not think it becoming of me to slaughter them without giving them a chance for redemption." There was... a certain look that entered her eyes for a second, but it was as gone as quickly as it came. "Of course, if the Elders decree otherwise... I follow Their will."

The Juggernaut didn't give it too much thought. "Safe for me to go ahead and call my cab?"

"Go on." Ref-Mai stepped away from the table, walking deeper into her Stronghold. "I will keep you informed. Be well, Juggernaut."

Well, his plans for today certainly seemed to be working out well so far. He'd secured a valuable ally in the Assassin, they had a definite lead in seeking out the Avenger, and he had some propaganda he could be getting up to. He turned, going back the way he came through the building. The only question was _how_ they were going to get that thing out of the sky... but the Juggernaut had been on board when UFOs were tracking it before. All they had to do was get a definite fix on the ship's location and prepare to strike it down.

Still, that was far into the future. As the Juggernaut got back on the elevator, his mind went to the propaganda side of things. Yeah, he'd seen a few pictures of the Chosen out at those events. Only the Warlock seemed like he had wanted to be out there, though it was hard to tell when the sourpuss was enjoying himself, if at all. Ref-Mai... they put her in some rather pretty outfits. The Juggernaut pressed the button for the elevator, leaning against the wall. He half-wondered what he'd get dressed in, though he had a few obvious answers. It was down to where the Speaker wanted to put him and what he wanted the Juggernaut to do.

Eventually, the doors opened to the outside landscape, bringing a biting breeze with it. The Juggernaut hailed his transport on the Network, walking out and observing the night sky. Rather calm, out here. He didn't nearly have this breadth of freedom working for XCOM. He could practically walk the whole world so long as he was doing something constructive about it. The Juggernaut never got the sense of cabin fever that he got back on the Avenger, and he was _very_ thankful for it. What did the Commander have to offer him that ADVENT didn't offer in spades? Why had he even been there in the first place?

As the transport ship came over the horizon and he looked long into the distance, he was sure he could recall the answer, given enough time. But he didn't want to offer his time to that avenue of question anymore. There were far better things to focus on, now.

* * *

Well, this was certainly interesting.

A few trips between depots and transport ships had led the Juggernaut right over to the Speaker, and he'd been lucky enough to catch the man in a non-occupied spot in his schedule. "Non-occupied" used loosely, as he'd still been making himself busy with what looked like some event planning when he'd entered his office. But when he caught sight of the Juggernaut, he seemed perfectly fine with dropping what he was doing and asking what brought him all the way out here. They'd gotten to talking, and sure enough, the Speaker had found him a relatively high-profile event that he could slot the Juggernaut into.

Which brought him to his situation now. The Juggernaut was sitting in what he'd definitely call an ADVENT limousine, one leg over the other with an emptied glass of champagne in one of his hands. The Speaker had seen to his outfit, and he could tell that some care had gone into the ensemble. A black, subtly-patterned vest over a wine red dress shirt, expertly folded just above his elbows to expose his forearms. He'd debated hotly with the Speaker over a bowtie compared to the tie he was wearing now, but he supposed the Speaker had the last word on things like this. Slacks with some boots underneath completed the look, as well as the Juggernaut dragging a comb through his hair and making a smaller braid that he wore closer to the side of his head. The Speaker wanted to leave the none-too-human qualities to the Chosen, so he'd been given a pair of sunglasses he currently had folded up and tucked into the vest. He could put them on later.

If not for the passing city landscape through the tinted windows, the Juggernaut could believe they were stopped. The ride was impossibly smooth, like they were gliding across ice. When he still had champagne left to drink, he wasn't sure he ever saw it rock outside of his own hand movements. He was relaxed back into his seat, mostly watching outside the window.

The event was quite the formal one. It was a fundraiser event featuring auctions of ADVENT artwork, and the Speaker had given him a crash course on what to expect and what to do if asked about anything. "If you're anything like the Chosen to them," he assured, "they will be cautious with questions anyhow. Just be ready." Ready was something the Juggernaut could pull off. He just hoped he could project the aura of "do not bother me" well enough.

Looked like it could still use some work—he heard one of his soldier escorts clear his throat. He looked over, regarding the Officer that had made the noise neutrally. "Pardon. We're quickly approaching the destination. Are you dissatisfied with your glasses, or?"

He shook his head, mentally checking the time to the destination on the Network. Yeah, it was getting to be about that time. He unfolded the sunglasses and put them back on, watching as the information on them activated again. It was mostly just locational data, with a spot for if anything urgently needed his attention. Map of the area, as well, so he wouldn't get too lost. The Juggernaut felt like he would, otherwise. They were nice glasses, really—he just felt ridiculous both wearing them at night and to an event like this. Hopefully they'd just see it as some new fashion trend or something. "They're alright," he replied, remembering to respond to him, "just wanted my vision clear in the car."

"Understood." The Officer went back to his ridgid sitting on the comfortable seat. The Juggernaut hadn't been given a name, just a number—FZ206340. He was probably just going to call him FZ if he needed to. "Officer" might be a little hard to parse in a crowd, but all else failed, he could ping him on the Network.

Eventually, the car got closer to the building. The architecture was a little off of the ADVENT standard, but he could get that for an ADVENT building. The bottom was just a bit stylized—it was the top that was the selling point. A large crescent moon made up the upper half of the structure, and he could see signs of viewing rooms at the top. A vantage point like that likely got a view of the entire city. An art gallery mainly, though there were places for gatherings on the fun side, if the information he was skimming off of the Network was anything to go by. A little luxurious for his tastes, but honestly he was kind of excited to go inside.

The limousine pulled into the half-circle drive up, and the Juggernaut could see that the path to the entrance was _lined_ with people. Reporters, press, there even seemed to be a few people dressed like they were going to go inside, too. He was half expecting a more rambunctious crowd—but the ADVENT troops stationed on either side of the rope fences probably kept a bit of the excitement down. Something occurred to the Juggernaut, and he looked over to his escort. "FZ. Am I obligated to answer questions?"

FZ looked like he was caught off-guard to be given a moniker, but he replied regardless. "No, sir. But if you do, try not to reveal internal affairs."

"That I can do." He felt like blowing off the questions—but if he established a friendly identity with the public, that would only secure his status as having willingly joined. Would be hard to pull the brainwashing card if he was just as he was before. He set his glass down, popping his knuckles. "Well, FZ. You and me on the floor tonight. I'll try not to embarrass you too much."

"Embarrassment is not a problem to me," he replied, the joke sailing over his head almost audibly. "I will make sure you are well protected."

Well, it wasn't like he was made to understand jokes. "I appreciate it," he said, bracing himself as he watched one of the Troopers break off from the line and approach the car, reaching for the door. The Juggernaut sucked in a quick, shallow breath. Showtime.

The door opened and the click of the shudders poured in. He could hear the din of the crowd as he stepped out of the limousine, adjusting his tie. It was... pretty staggering, to see these crowds, all the people looking towards him. Luckily the sunglasses were pretty much one-way glass. He turned back, waiting for FZ to get out of the car. Once the Officer was out and he nodded to him, the Juggernaut began to walk forwards.

He could already hear questions being asked on all sides. If he stopped to answer them now, he'd be out here all night. Instead, he let a smile reach his lips, and he held up a hand, waving to the crowds. That seemed to inspire further energy, enough to make the troopers begin to ask people to settle down.

"Juggernaut, sir!" A reporter's voice came over the crowd, and he gently turned his head in her direction. "Is it true you came from outside ADVENT?"

Ooh, risky question for her. He chuckled. "Elders chose me just as well. Would be more than happy to answer more questions, but places to be." One question would do, right? He turned his head back towards the glittering double doors as two human assistants opened them on either side, and he waltzed right into the gallery with FZ right behind him.

The inside of the gallery was kind of amazing. The ceiling was high and light fixtures and art pieces alike hung from it—and in some places, it was hard to distinguish between the two. The floor looked like a starscape, twinkling stars and all, with a path of solid white marble winding from to the door, to the front desk, and splitting off into multiple directions deeper into the gallery. There were works of art in all directions, ones the Juggernaut were starting to warm up to, even if the people around them made him mildly apprehensive about approaching. Still, where to go from here? He quickly pinged FZ on the Network. _FZ. Lead the way? I've got no clue what I'm doing here._

Thankfully, FZ was dependable. He overtook the Juggernaut and walked towards the desk, and he fell in line behind FZ as the latter addressed the receptionist. "Evening. Is the auction still going at 7:30?"

The guy at the desk nodded. "We're not seeing any reasons for delays." He nodded to the Juggernaut, but didn't try to make eye contact. "Now especially that our special guest is here. Please, the two of you enjoy yourselves."

FZ nodded, looking back to the Juggernaut. So he was leading this whole ordeal anyway? He couldn't say he was a fan of the idea, but they had some time to kill, after all. The Juggernaut performed a smile. "Gives me some time to admire the pieces, I suppose. And drag my escort around for good measure."

The receptionist laughed, but the gesture didn't quite reach his eyes. Well, the Juggernaut wasn't here to intimidate the ADVENT populace. He walked away from the desk, deciding to follow the marble path through the starlight and let his eyes wander. Honestly, the pieces in here were pretty. He didn't know what he'd been expecting—something more "modern art" like? Suffice to say, his expectations were being defied. Most of the art in here was appropriately celestial-themed, and the Juggernaut would be lying if he said he didn't have a fondness for space. What was this place called? _The Celestial Observatory,_ the Network returned. _Commonly shortened to "The Celestial." Established eight years ago, it has enjoyed several visits from noted public figures, and is notable to have had return visits from the Elders' Assassin._ Oh! Now that was knowledge he was happy to have. Did she like space aesthetics, too?

With that in mind, he supposed he was paying a bit more attention. He was drawn more towards the freestanding pieces—though he was avoiding the ones that had people congregated around them. Approaching those might be seen as an avenue to conversation, and he couldn't say he was too thrilled to think of that. There was one that specifically caught his eye—it looked like a scale model of a nebula, but it was both glowing and appeared to be _moving._ Raising his eyebrows, he wandered off of the marble path to get a closer look.

It was just as impressive up close. The material the sculpture was made of did appear to be moving slightly, and he was wondering just how they pulled that off. Before he could read the plaque to find out, though, he could hear footsteps that weren't FZ's approaching. He froze until he heard someone's voice. "You know, if it was my first time here, I think I'd approach _The Cradle_ first, too."

Figuring he couldn't stand there like an awkward statue, the Juggernaut turned to face the person attempting to engage him in conversation. It was a woman, and she was quite dressed for the occasion—near floor-length dress and a rather glittery shawl. Her blond hair was pinned with a subtle brooch and she was smiling at him warmly. Conscious of trying to make a good impression, he gave a short chuckle. "Do I look that much like a novice? Here I thought I'd make it through the evening without someone noticing."

She shook her head, still smiling. "No shame in not being familiar with this world we're in—I can't imagine it's something they train you for under the Elders, bless Their hearts. I'm a little more interested in the fact that you're out here."

"Where the Elders tell me to go, I follow," he said, echoing the Assassin's sentiment, even if it wasn't all true. "They didn't have to drag me kicking and screaming here, at least."

"Well, three for four, then." She looked back to the nebula sculpture. "The Hunter never looks too happy at any event he's at, but I'm sure it's because he wants to get back to work."

The Juggernaut felt the urge to compulsively snark about that, but he _was_ aware enough to know that slagging off any of the Chosen here would inevitably reach their ears. Instead he nodded. "There's always work to be done, but I see the merits in a break or two. Plus, well, this place isn't too hard on the eyes. Makes it easier to take the time off."

She laughed, hiding her mouth behind her hand. "Oh, I'm sure that's one of the best compliments the Celestial's heard. A few of the wine-drinkers think this place has pigeonholed itself, but I personally think there's merit in specialization. Jack of all trades, master of none."

"True. Specialists are how jobs are handled well." He was kind of running out of steam for this conversation. Hopefully he could hit on something that'd make this woman go on a tangent. It wasn't that he didn't like the spot of chatter—it was going far better than he thought it would—he was just running out of things to say. "Admittedly, this is one of the first few spots I've hit up during my time here. Not a bad first, as far as I know."

"Not a bad first at all." Her eyes darted to him, then she crossed her arms. "... it wouldn't be overstepping a boundary if I..." Her next chuckle was a bit nervous, and she shook her head. "Probably would be."

He looked to FZ, gauging the situation. FZ was standing a little closer to the walkway, not looking like he wanted to leave but not looking like he really wanted to see any of the pieces too closely, either. Still, at the lull in the conversation, he looked over, questioning.

Well, what was the worst that could happen? He walked closer, keeping his eyes on the nebula. "Won't know until you ask, right? Promise I'll let you down gently if it is."

"'Let me down gently!'" Her laugh was genuine again. "What a way to put it... but, I guess you're right." She rubbed her arm a bit. "There's been... some talk, I guess you could put it. You... you came from that one dissident group, right?" Her voice dropped. "XCOM?"

Ah, he could understand the nervousness. He shrugged slightly, splaying a hand out. "No reason for me to lie, I think—so yeah, that's the truth. I made a wrong move, I got captured—but the Elders didn't do anything so bad. I... learned the truth, is all. I learned I didn't really know what I was fighting for. What I was doing _when_ I was fighting. After learning what I did... it only seemed natural to join up. Don't want to be known for my time at XCOM, but hey, the sooner I clear up the rumors, the sooner everyone can associate me with ADVENT."

The tension went out of her shoulders as he talked, and she nodded at the end. "I'm glad some people out there can still see reason. It's... scary, imagining what it's like outside of ADVENT. The people XCOM are deluding... they don't have anywhere to turn. It's easy for them to buy into what XCOM is selling with the lies floating around out there."

"Helps that XCOM really doesn't show the full picture to them." He eased his hands into his vest pockets. "They do more harm than any good they could be seeking out. I don't think a lot of those 'havens' know the kind of damage XCOM does to people who aren't even fighting against them."

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "They really don't. I... I know a friend whose brother nearly _died_ because they took out one of the power grids for his city. If not for the ADVENT workers rushing in as fast as they did... I don't think he'd be here today. It's madness, what they're doing. But..." She shook her head, dropping her arms. "Admittedly, it's all a little much to think on. I'd like to go back to seeing the art around here, even if I've been though here quite a few times."

"I'd be more than happy to drop the topic. As for the tour—"

The Juggernaut stopped up, a message on the Network flashing on his glasses. Some officer with another barcode wanted to meet with him higher in the building, and helpfully, the map on his glasses updated with directions. At his pause, the woman turned back. "Everything alright?"

"Oh, yeah." He gave her a smile. "Just got a summons to higher up. Official business. I can see about continuing this later if I don't get held for the whole night."

She chuckled. "Alright, alright, I won't get in the way of official business. By the way..." She turned to leave. "My name's Esther. I hope you enjoy the rest of the gallery."

With that, she departed, leaving the Juggernaut to eye the map on the corner of his screen. Pleasant woman, that. If he ever thought he'd see her again after this, he might think more of her. But, well... no offense meant to her, but how many times was he going to be through this area? He might check out the Celestial a few more times, but could he guarantee those times would be when she was there? Mingling with the ADVENT populace wasn't beneath him, per say, it was just... well, two different worlds. Still, filing away the thought of returning for later, he began to walk where the directions said to go.

FZ fell in behind him, but was quick to speak. "Official business? I wasn't notified of anything."

"Just got a notification from another officer," he explained, keeping his eyes ahead. "Wants me to come up to one of the balconies."

"Hm. Must be above my rank. I'll accompany you up there."

"I'd like that."

The Juggernaut continued walking, keeping his eyes trained forward. There was an elevator and a set of stairs at the end of the room, and he opted to take the former. FZ stepped into the shaft with him and he hit the button that lit up on his glasses. He trusted in the fact that it was the correct floor, and marvelled silently at how they must've put so much tech into a pair of shades. Just more proof of how ADVENT were moving things forwards, in his eyes.

As they ascended, the Juggernaut wondered what kind of business the officer wanted him for. Perhaps there was another mission the Elders wanted him to see to before he began pursuing XCOM in earnest? He was willing to believe that explanation. After all, no rest until the job was done—and the Juggernaut was fine with any excuse to keep moving.

Eventually the elevator stopped on their floor, and he stepped on out. As he did, FZ followed and began to talk. "I believe my superior will want me to wait outside," he began. "There should be someone to monitor the door—and if they called you without informing me, it is likely a conversation I should not be privy to."

"Makes enough sense to me." The room the balcony was on looked like some sort of... dance hall, perhaps? It was rather barren, but there were tables against the walls and a few luxurious seats here and there. Perhaps some sort of room that could be rented out for events like the one that was being hosted today. The map was pointing to one of the doors on the far right side of the room. "Just make sure I don't get shot in the back and I'll be fine."

"I will ensure your safety, Juggernaut." Strike two for the jokes, he supposed. He'd tone them down so as to not make a fool of FZ.

Leaving that aside, he walked over to the door, looking back and nodding to his escort, who stood a bit of a distance away as to not eavesdrop, likely. The Juggernaut opened the door, stepping out.

He was certainly a ways up. From his judging, he was near the top of the Celestial, maybe in the tallest room that wasn't used for storage or the like. At this height, they were above the skyline, and the rolling city center beneath him stretched out into the night. Nobody seemed to be at the balcony at first, so he stepped out. Maybe there was another part he wasn't—

"Nice view, hm?"

The Juggernaut wheeled around, looking at the spot right next to the door. There stood Kon-Il, grinning at him like a hyena. How he'd missed the towering Chosen while he was walking out, he didn't know, but there was a definite air of danger to the situation. He didn't want to approach the Chosen... but he stepped more to the side, closer to the Celestial. No use in being so close to the edge of the balcony. "Hunter. Fancy seeing you up here."

"Call me fancy," he snarked, gesturing to the Juggernaut's clothes, "but _you're_ the one playing the part of handsome lapdog. Got settled in right quick when the truth set in, didn't you?"

"If I remember anything correctly, it was _you_ who spurred that revelation on. Should be proud, I suppose."

"Supposing something doesn't make it true, greenhorn." He pushed off from his lean on the wall, walking more towards the Juggernaut. He held his ground, making it so that the Hunter could loom right over him. "But bygones are bygones, and all that. I wanted to drop in on my piece of work and see how he was doing. Not as miffed as I could be about the Elders picking you up, considering I don't have to see you as some sort of equal. They just stuffed enough electronics in you to make a TSA agent have a stroke."

Would've been interesting to be a Chosen, but if that meant getting put on the Hunter's threat radar, he was somewhat glad that the Elders chose a different path for him. "All things happen as they should, I guess. You could've just wandered into the party without luring me up here, of course."

"Oh, the _hell_ I would catch from the Speaker from showing up here 'underdressed.'" Kon-Il crossed his arms. "I figured I'd save myself the trouble and just have our little chat up here. Besides, there was something else I wanted to touch on that we couldn't exactly have over drinks." His smile turned a little colder. "You've been getting a little cozy with your allies, hm?"

He must've been privy to the Assassin's alliance with him—or he was massively bluffing to put him on the spot. It was a fair chance either way, and the Juggernaut needed to watch his words carefully. "As comfortable as one would want, wanting to get every advantage he can get. Nothing too uncouth, I'd hope."

"Of course, of course, I get what you're saying..." The Hunter held up his hands. "If you're not using every card in your hand, you'd better have a good one up your sleeve, if you ask me. I was just a little curious—you've been all over the place on the flight records. Running around like a chicken with your head cut off. Makes me wonder if you actually know what you're doing."

Was every conversation with the Hunter going to be laced with jabs and hidden traps? "I'm figuring it out, at the very least. I don't have the wealth of experience you surely have, so I'm trying to get myself acquainted with everything. After I'm good, I have my sights on the Commander, same as all of you."

The Hunter began to leisurely pace, gesturing as he did. "Everyone's after the Commander, of course... but the question is why. Why are you doing it, dear Juggernaut?"

"Simple as everyone else. To bring him in to the Elders—"

"No, no, no. That's different." He stopped, turning towards the edge of the balcony, showing the Juggernaut his back. "You've got a history, _Max._ The Commander isn't just our wayward tactical database to you. Turning your back on XCOM so thoroughly... it leaves someone like me to speculate on if you're just a little _too_ eager to get back at him. After all, you're the one who's been crossed by the Commander the most personally out of all of us. He's responsible for your pain and suffering for twenty years. Doesn't it make you angry?"

Of course it did. Every time the Juggernaut thought of the things he had to do to stay alive during those twenty years, it made his blood boil, and further fuelled his drive to capture the Commander. But... wasn't he still hung up on what he was going to _do_ once he captured the Commander? He wanted to kill that man, but if his alliance with the Assassin was going to work, he had to be brought back alive. He didn't exactly want to cross the Assassin for a number of reasons. But the Commander had to answer for his actions.

Before he could think on it further, the Hunter spoke again. "Your silence speaks a lot more than you do, Juggernaut. You might want to consider what exactly it is that you're fighting for, out here."

Admittedly, a little bit of the Juggernaut's patience slipped. "I could say the same to you, Hunter. I'm fighting to take back the Commander, just the same as you. What are you looking to do by cornering me like this?"

The Hunter turned back towards him, grinning wickedly. "If I told you that, where would the fun be in it? Just think of it as something to keep in mind going forward. You may not be a Chosen, but you're racing to get the Commander just as well. If you ask me, anger's a good thing to have. Keeps you going, keeps your eyes on what you need to be focusing on. Helps in pulling the trigger, too—but I never hesitate, anyway. I've got some preemptive anger in my gut about you possibly getting to the Commander before I do. Still, wouldn't do me any good to toss you off the balcony, so just watch your step."

The Juggernaut leveled his gaze at the Hunter, and he was speaking before he'd fully considered his words. "It's a mark of a mediocre man to sabotage the competition. Tells you he doesn't think he can win on his own merits. Is that it, Kon-Il?"

"Don't try to talk me down on grounds of honor," he shot back. "You're fighting a losing battle there. I'll do every dirty trick in the book if I feel like it. So for your own sake? Don't even start."

Fair enough. He was just glad his thoughtlessness didn't lead to more misfortune. "Advice taken. We about done here, or?"

"Oh, what, want to get back down to the adoring crowds?" The Hunter walked to the railing, looking like he wasn't even paying attention to the Juggernaut anymore. "They're afraid of you above all else. There's a reason you're wearing those glasses—they can handle completely alien things or at least seemingly human things. You're not either."

"Neither are you," he returned, "and I'm fine with them being scared. They're not who I'm here about."

"And who are you here about? Why are you here if not for them? What are you really doing, in the end?" The Hunter spread out his hands. "Better start answering those questions—not for me, but for yourself. Would hate to see you get all washed up. But, whatever. I'll leave you to your little shindig. I've got things to do."

With that, there was the distinctive column of light and energy as the Hunter warped out, leaving him alone on the rooftop. The elevation was high enough for him to register the cold—but it wasn't like it really bit at him anymore. It didn't affect him nearly as much as it used to, and it was almost like he felt it _less._ Kon-Il's questions burrowed into his brain, and he closed his eyes for a minute. He was surely saying all of that just to rile him up, and yet...

He breathed out a sigh, opening his eyes again. Well, he had things to do, too. He might've just _told_ the Hunter that he wasn't here for the masses, but truth be told, he was. Better to feed the Hunter something else and throw him off of the trail, even if it just led to the man asking more questions of him. Trying to leave those questions behind, he looked to the door. How much of that, if any, had FZ heard? Figuring the meeting was over, the Juggernaut walked back over to the door, sliding it back and walking through.

Sure enough, FZ hadn't moved from his post. He looked over, regarding him. "Is your meeting concluded?"

"Essentially." The Juggernaut corrected his tie, walking back towards the elevator. "Let's head back down. We've got the rest of the night to see about."

FZ nodded and walked behind him. Rest of the evening, here he came.

* * *

It was a little while before the Juggernaut heard from the Assassin again—but granted, it was faster than he gave her credit for.

He'd been keeping himself busy the past few days between trying to train up the best he could and follow some leads about resistance activity. The former was interesting to work with, considering his new physiology, the latter? Not much had occurred. Granted, he didn't expect XCOM to be lighting the world on fire after so much had gone down. There were words of scouts approaching one of the facilities, so the Juggernaut had resolved to keep his eye on happenings around there.

He was at the facility, getting a lay for the land, when he got a message on the Network. _Juggernaut. I have discovered the haven and have finished assembling a plan of attack._

He raised his eyebrows, leaning against the wall on the balcony he was currently on. _Nice work, you got that done fast. What's the plan?_

In response, the Juggernaut could _feel_ a file being authorized to him, which was something he was still getting used to. Inside were the coordinates of the haven, as well as a detailed layout, estimation of armed forces, and the location of the communications tower. He gave a low, impressed whistle to himself. _Alright. So, how do we handle extending a helping hand? Should I show up first and extend the offer in person, or do we send a message ahead of time? Either one tends to have downsides._

_Usual procedure is to send a message, yes, but typically when forces are already en route._ That made enough sense, and cut down on the margin of error of the haven getting ready or just fleeing. _I see no reason to deviate from the norm if you do not._

_Sounds good to me._ The Juggernaut took a final look around, familiarizing himself with the facility. _How are we meeting up?_ He sent the coordinates for his location. _Might take me a while to just head there from where I'm at. Should we have a midway point?_

_Agreed._ There was a little bit of silence, during which the Juggernaut almost shot back a message asking if things were good. Eventually, however, the Assassin sent him another set of coordinates, corresponding with an ADVENT outpost near the haven. _We will meet there, discuss details of the final plan of attack, then proceed apace._

_Alright. Meet you there._ With that, the Juggernaut hailed for a ship in the area, detailing his business in the message. Getting the automated response back that it would take just a moment to get over to him, he began to think on what he would do. If they had a right mind, most of them would join up when they extended the offer. Anyone left after that would just want to pick a fight, or had been too heavily deluded by XCOM. He'd only go for combatants. _And what of those unarmed? Was it not a raid on your haven that made you join XCOM?_

He didn't remember anything like that. These thoughts of his were strange. Regardless, if the non-combatants didn't leave when the offer of amnesty was extended, that was their own fault. ADVENT could provide for them. If they chose to buy into XCOM's lies, that was on them, not on him. He got out. They could, too.

The dropship came and the Juggernaut vaulted over the side of the railing, landing heavily on the ground below. He had all of his gear on him, so he considered himself fairly ready to go. He stepped onto the ship and watched the doors close, taking a seat as they did.

It was a long, mildly boring flight. The Juggernaut didn't have much to occupy him up there save for his thoughts. That, and the vast capabilities of the Network. Idly, he looked up the Celestial again, and then began following the trail of documents that would lead here and there, reading up on what he found. It didn't seem like immediately useful knowledge, but it'd be there in his mind and it kept him occupied.

He was on a list of all individually recognized sandwich shops in a certain chain when the ship went into landing motions. Putting a mental bookmark on that file, the Juggernaut came out of the Network as the ship lowered. It was a far more forested scene that greeted him when the doors opened, though the facility looked largely the same. Must be serving the same purpose as the last one, he supposed. He dismounted from the ship, walking into the facility.

Hm, yep, definitely the same facility type, same layout and all. Different patrols, at least, with an Andromedon on the inside here. He almost thought about asking if the Assassin was here—but it wasn't like they'd know if she didn't want them to. He supposed he could just _wait._ Or pace, he seemed to have built up a reputation for just visiting facilities. He let his feet guide him into wandering as he took a look around.

Not for long, of course. Something tapped the wall behind him and he turned, face to face with the Assassin. She had her weapons and gear fully assembled, looking like she was ready for whatever XCOM could throw at her. "Juggernaut. You took longer than I supposed you would."

"Sorry about that, would've ran if it was faster."

Her mouth twitched in something closer to a smile, but it passed quickly. "I appreciate your dedication to punctuality," she responded. "Still, with you here, we may now begin planning."

The Juggernaut nodded, following behind her as she walked back into the main portion of the facility. She looked at a larger monitor on the wall, and in a few seconds it powered on, displaying the map that she had sent to the Juggernaut. He didn't even know that could be done with the Network. "The heavy forest around the area means we either march from a further back position or drop right in the clearing," she began, motioning to the map as she did. "The terrain has been made muddied from recent rains, meaning MECs would encounter difficulties on approach. Far be it from me to expand our Chryssalid forces, but they seem like an accurate fit."

Chryssalids weren't exactly something the Juggernaut was looking forward to working with, but he could see the Assassin's reasoning. Dropping in directly was asking to get eaten up by what gunfire they had. Still, though, if it was just conventional gear... "Did you get a sense for the weapons they have?"

"It seems this is a haven more dear to XCOM." The screen brought up some images of what looked like an armory, with a few grenade launchers, matching grenades, and one gauss rifle. "Normally if they were just armed with their typical assault rifles, I would not think twice of airdropping in. However, that gauss rifle tells me they have someone with better aim in their ranks. After I encountered XCOM, I am no longer someone who underestimates their enemies. A long approach with Chryssalids in front should overwhelm those keen to stay. If need be, I will summon reinforcements of my own."

"Right. I'm supposing we don't have any Faceless in the area?"

"If we did," she stated simply, "I would not have spent several days locating this haven."

"Right, sorry."

She shook her head. "I would have brought it up immediately were it the case. Nevertheless, the intel we have is what I gathered myself. We can move immediately once we have rallied our forces."

He nodded. "And the message?"

"You seem to have an aptitude for facing the public." Ref-Mai picked up a device from one of the desks. She tapped a button on it, and it floated on its own, its lens pointing towards him. "We shall issue the message while we wait for the rest of our forces to arrive, and you shall be the one to make it, if you have no objections, of course."

Well, that he could do. He'd almost feel a little better telling the citizens himself that they could get out while they still could. "That's good by me." He... wanted to bring up a few, more casual topics of conversation with the Assassin, but now wasn't the time. The Juggernaut had other things to focus on. "I'm ready to move whenever you are."

She nodded, taking and deactivating the device. "I have had the appropriate personnel heading on the way—and the Chryssalids I can draw, myself. I will alert you when we are ready to depart."

More waiting. He could do that. Still, that did bring something to mind. Back when he was at XCOM, the Assassin seemed to rely on the more... dangerous aliens in battle. The more feral ones. He gestured to her. "I can wait, certainly, but mind if I ask a few questions?"

She hummed in thought. "Are they mission related?"

Hm. Maybe he'd never get to know. "Tangentially. Just a few questions about yourself."

Ref-Mai gave a bit of a "hmph," turning and motioning to follow her. "I suppose I'll answer depending on what it is."

The Juggernaut followed after her, walking as they moved to one of the exit doors. "You seem fond of using some of the ADVENT forces more than others. Like the Chryssalids, for example."

That seemed to throw a switch, and she half-turned to him. "—that's the matter that you are curious about?" When he nodded, she looked back ahead, lacing her hands together. "I think there is much more to Chryssalids that others overlook. Their penchant for adaptability is to be admired, one I strive for myself. They are easy to guide, if you know what to do."

"Wouldn't have taken you to be a fan."

"I suppose you could call me that. I simply believe they can be directed with enough care and attention."

Seemed like they were right at the edge of him learning a lot more about Chryssalids than he ever thought he would. He considered if he wanted to cut it short for a moment. Just a moment, of course. "Really? Could you tell me more?"

Ref-Mai lit up at that, and the next stretch of time was spent with the Juggernaut listening to her rattling off what seemed like everything she could think of to say about the creatures. As she did, she outlined her process for summoning them—her sword could channel her limited psionics, and she could use that to send out a calling wave. He'd be ashamed to admit that he was a little awed to see her do that and then watch all of the Chryssalids unburrow and scatter in from a distance—and further ashamed to admit that the sight of her _petting_ one of them was a little adorable. Just a little bit.

Eventually, however, the rest of the forces assembled. The Assassin had located the "leader" of the Chryssalids in the area and was standing by it as the dropships came. The Juggernaut walked up to her, keeping tabs on the larger, slightly altered Chryssalid out of the corner of his eye. "So. When's the message going out?"

"We'll need to record that further up," she explained, pointing towards the woods. "If we record it here, there is the chance the video is used to locate this facility. A nigh-unidentifiable spot in the woods ahead will serve purposes better, and we can delay the deployment."

He hated to seem like he was bugging her incessantly about it, but he had to prepare himself to speak. Wasn't like he could just pull something meaningful out of his ass. "Sounds reasonable. I'm ready to go if we all are."

Ref-Mai nodded, moving ahead. "I will scout ahead in cloak, just to make sure our approach is uninterrupted." She made a peculiar clicking sound with her tongue, and the Chryssalids gathered around her, following her as she moved. The Juggernaut took that as a signal to follow along after her, and soon he could hear their mostly-soldier forces following along behind them, though they'd requisitioned a few Sectoids.

At some point, Ref-Mai disappeared in front of them, with a few of the Chryssalids going as well, though the rest seemed to _know_ to keep moving ahead. The Juggernaut kept walking, keeping his eyes on a steady scan. It wouldn't be long now. They'd be on the haven, take control of the radio relay, and be one step closer to finding the Avenger. _And killing the Commander._ Debatable. _He needs to die. He needs to pay for his crimes. Simply lying asleep for another twenty years won't be enough._ One problem at a time. Getting to him was the first step.

They'd walked long enough for the Juggernaut to start letting his guard down a little bit before Ref-Mai reappeared with her throng of Chryssalids, the recording device in hand. She was looking right at him. "This is a good enough spot." She squinted, and the soldiers behind him fanned out, leaving him alone in his area. "Are you ready, Juggernaut?"

Not really—he hadn't really summoned together too many words on the matter, but he didn't exactly want to say that. He nodded, holstering his gun. "I'm ready."

"This won't be live," she assured as the recording device began to hover in front of him, "so we may do a retake or two if need be."

"Hopefully it won't come to that."

Ref-Mai almost smiled, and a light on the recording device activated. Well, he needed to say _something._ The Juggernaut took a deep breath. Here went nothing. "—afternoon, everyone." Fantastic start. _Keep going, idiot._ "Hard to say what XCOM's told you of me, but I want to make one thing certain. As you can see, I'm certainly not dead. Not brainwashed, either; in fact, I feel like I'm thinking better than I ever have in my life. On top of that, there's one thing I know for certain—XCOM is not the way out. They've lied to you. They're trampling on the lives of innocents, and for what? To chase out the support system so many people uninvolved with the war rely on? Are you really looking to unplug so many people's life support?" He crossed his arms. "I'd like to think I'm the optimistic sort. I know that XCOM makes a lot of promises, many they can't follow up. I'd know. So here's a deal—all those willing to give up this meaningless fight, everyone who didn't sign up for the things XCOM lied about, you can _leave._ Pack up your things, organize with your families, and get out. ADVENT will receive you with open arms. To anyone else deluded enough to stay... you'll find out shortly. Make your decisions."

Seeing that he'd wrapped up, the Assassin hit a button on the device in her palm. The camera's light deactivated and it flew back over to her, with the Assassin nodding approvingly. "A succinct message. We'll deliver it when we're nearly upon the haven, and give those who want to leave some time some time to do so. After that..."

The Juggernaut got his shotgun off of his back again. "Well, we take care of business."

"Of course." The Assassin stored the device on her belt and disappeared back into her cloak. They advanced from there, with the Juggernaut definitely spotting the muddy terrain that would've made it difficult to field MECs. Fine by him, he'd walked in worse conditions. Soon, he felt a message from the Assassin pop in. _The haven is just ahead. Halt._

He did so, bunkering behind a tree, the rest of their entourage doing the same. The Chryssalids chattered quietly, raising themselves up and looking around. Ref-Mai chimed in again. _Deploying the message in three. Two. One._

Nothing happened after that, but he trusted that it was getting broadcast to the haven. Silence spanned on for a few minutes before he could hear a commotion ahead. It sounded like quite a bit of shouting and people moving around. Message sent, he guessed, and they were primed to swoop in on anyone who remained after.

_They seem to have a group that is leaving to the east,_ Ref-Mai added. _I will route some of our dropships and troops that way._

_Good by me,_ he responded, hearing some of their forces break off. Honestly, as long as they had the Chryssalids, they would be fine in his book. He checked to make sure that his shotgun was all ready to go—safety off, chamber primed. At this point, all he needed was the signal.

It came. _No other groups moving out, the rest are arming themselves. Move._

That he could do. As he moved forward, the Assassin appeared on a backdrop of stars, looking like she was lifting one side of a blanket. There were Chryssalids around her feet, chittering. "Approach. We will go underneath my cloak."

Huh. He knew she had that thing, but he didn't know it could cloak other people, too. Maybe he'd just never seen it. Regardless, he did, checking behind him as he did. None of the other soldiers were following—he guessed the two of them would just be the stealth insertion to cause chaos. Good by him.

The Juggernaut looked forward. The background of stars had disappeared, and now it seemed as if he were looking at the world through a nearly transparent veil. He and the Assassin moved in lockstep, getting closer to the edge of the haven. It was standard fare, if a little bit more advanced than most havens went, clearly thanks to XCOM's favor. It made him wonder for all the ones they didn't value so much, how those people were largely left to the wolves. This wasn't a life to lead, in his eyes.

Ref-Mai moved closer to the heart of the camp, with the Juggernaut hot on her heels. They rounded a ramshackle building and the people of the haven became visible. Most of them had barely, if any armor on to go with their rifles. One guy, his blond hair a little unkempt and a slash across his jaw, was holding the gauss rifle that Ref-Mai had spotted. As the Chryssalids around the Assassin's feet fell to a well-trained hush, their conversation became more clear. "—put in the request for XCOM to come over, but they haven't given us a response yet."

"They're coming," a woman assured. "They always do."

"I'm not so sure." The man with the gauss rifle had it held in his arms, at rest for the moment. "XCOM's good about replying pretty instantly. That guy in the message... that was Maxim. I don't know what they did to him, but that was XCOM's best agent. Was. I think we may be alone on this one."

"But if that was XCOM's best agent, what do we do?"

"Fight like we always do. I don't believe him for a second when he says he isn't brainwashed. There's something going on there."

A nearby fighter scoffed. "Yeah, anybody could see that, did you see the color of his eyes? They changed him. Who knows what else—"

A woman came running from the side. "Contact! They're coming from the woods!"

With assorted curses, the fighters mobilized. The man with the gauss rifle took a sniper perch while everyone else started getting into positions and pulling out cover. The Juggernaut looked to the Assassin, who mouthed "hold" at him. The Chryssalids around their feet remained quiet, but it was clear they were getting a little antsy.

Mag fire broke out, and he saw one of the fighters get clipped. Fighting broke out from there. The Assassin seemed content to watch the carnage for a little bit—the haven fighters may have been a little under-equipped but it was clear they'd done this before and were fighting accordingly. Maybe they'd last long without any surprises.

Unfortunately, that was exactly what the Assassin had in store. They retreated behind a nearby building and Ref-Mai crouched down, scratching the chin of the leader. Some indescribable reverberation went through the cloak, and with a motion like she was lifting one side of it, the Chryssalids peeled away, running towards the fighters without any sort of battle cry. The silence had its intended effect—screams went up as the people were caught off guard, cut down by the aliens and ranks scattering. The sniper cursed and fired off some close-range shots, missing a few but getting a few clean hits.

The Juggernaut tapped Ref-Mai's side. _I'll head for him. Get any stragglers._

She nodded, easily dashing away from him. The mild distortion on his vision vanished, and he went ahead and assumed he was visible, sprinting towards the tower. He needed to clear that man out so their troops wouldn't have new holes in their skull. He scrambled up the ladder, feeling and hearing it strain underneath his weight. He wasn't too heavy, he thought—it looked like it was hastily scraped together much like everything else in the haven. Perhaps a bit of both. Regardless, he got to the top. The man's back was turned to him, as focused as he was in trying to get the Chryssalids and troops off of his people. Not on his watch.

The Juggernaut quickly brandished his shotgun, burying a round into the back of the man's leg. He cried out, hitting the floor and only keeping one hand on his weapon. The Juggernaut advanced, easily wresting the gun out of his hands and tossing it to the side.

He scooted back as much as the tower would let him, clutching his leg. "—Maxim! It's—it's me!"

The Juggernaut looked at him, scanning his face. No recognition whatsoever. "Who are you?"

"Jerry! You... you talked to me when XCOM set up the radio tower!"

Did this man expect the Juggernaut to remember something like that? The name "Jerry" was familiar, but only just. "Maybe. If you're looking to make me spare you, there's only one way to do that."

"They—they're lying to you, Maxim! There are innocent people down here!"

"I know there are," he calmly countered. "Innocent people that XCOM has lied to. We gave them the chance to leave."

"To what?! To get killed at one of those gene clinics?"

"Killed?" He shook his head. "XCOM truly has deluded all of you. You're conflating correlation with causation—people go missing, this is true, but people go missing no matter who they're with or who they're affiliated with. What of XCOM? What am I to think of all the people who go missing thanks to them? What about the people who die in the city centers thanks to their collateral damage?"

"Those... those people are different. They chose that."

"Awfully bold of you to say." The Juggernaut came over, crouching down in front of Jerry. "What do I say to all of the mothers and fathers who don't want to put their children out into the wilds out here? What do I say to all of the people with problems that a gene clinic can't solve away, the ones that need extended care? What do I say to them, Jerry?"

Jerry was silent. He looked away, wincing as his wound bled. The Juggernaut sighed. "Look. I can tell that XCOM has deluded you like they did me. ADVENT is always accepting of new recruits and you wouldn't be any different. They could take you in and get your wound patched up, give you something better to fight for. Do I look like a man with a gun held to his head?"

"... no," Jerry responded, "but you're holding one to mine."

"A matter of perspective, I suppose. But hey, you have that choice you claimed those people had. What will it be?"

The screams of people echoed below them, and embers were beginning to drift in the air. Haze was filling the sky, and the crack of mag fire had slowed. Jerry looked at him for a long time, the color draining slightly from his face.

Finally, he came forward with his answer. "I'd rather die as I am, doing what I believed was right. Kill me."

The Juggernaut sighed. "Alright. I can respect that. So long, Jerry."

He leveled his gun at Jerry's head and fired, erasing one more poor soul deceived by XCOM from the world. Before he left the tower, he reached down and took another look at the gauss rifle. It echoed the feeling of the haven itself—clearly XCOM sourced, but it seemed like it had encountered some bumpiness in its life, with the scars to show for it. Still working and patched up all the same, however. Such a shame.

The Juggernaut jumped down from the tower, making a heavy landing. The sound of gunfire had largely died down, leaving the crackle of fire, the footsteps of troops, and the skittering of Chryssalids to fill the air. Cocoons were all over the place, giving life to new Chryssalids, stumbling about on new legs and wandering about the older ones. The soldiers were now doing checks inside residences—though they didn't seem to be finding much. Maybe a larger force left than he'd assumed.

Doing one more sweep, he contacted Ref-Mai on the Network. _Sniper cleared. Gave him a chance but he didn't want it. Resistance looks to be neutralized._

He got enough time to watch another Chryssalid emerge and another older one to almost _fret_ over it before he got a response. _Understood. Our dropships are currently escorting a large group of refugees from the area. The radio tower is undamaged. I will see about getting a force to begin reverse-engineering it to track XCOM._

The Juggernaut smiled. _Good work, Ref-Mai. Couldn't have done it without you, certainly not as easy as this._

_I merely seek to live up to the standards the Elders have set for me. Your message cut out most of my work._

_Wouldn't have been able to deliver a message if I couldn't find this place. Take credit where you deserve it._

_If you so desire._

With that, the channel closed, leaving the Juggernaut to consider the haven. The Chryssalids would undoubtedly use this place as a stomping grounds for a while to come—hopefully they'd be civil to him as they navigated the tower, but they seemed a lot more measured than he remembered. Perhaps Ref-Mai's presence was to blame. She seemed to be to blame for a lot of convenience around here—and the Juggernaut certainly wasn't complaining. Working with her would make some things in the future a lot easier. _Like killing the Commander?_ They would see about that.

The Juggernaut returned his shotgun to his back, beginning to walk. One step closer to XCOM. One step closer to a better future.


End file.
